Slow Days

Pardon the reduced pace of HGW lately. Seems the Holiday Crunch is affecting my energy and attention a bit (lovely time of year – stress, insanity, traffic, mobs of mouth-breathing jerks in your way everywhere you go – Merry Effin’ Christmas, as I always say). I’m watching as much hockey as I can, I just can’t seem to find the extra time to write too much about it at the moment.

A few catch-up thoughts, however.

Last night in Buffalo was a bit frustrating. Not just because of the bad calls, and there were many. I never want to be someone who goes all knee-jerk and blames a loss on the refs unless it’s horrific and blatant. It was more the B’s lack of urgency, especially on the power-play. For the second straight game they were given a game-changing man advatage opportunity and went flat (see the 5-minute major against the Flyers). I promise a more in-depth diatribe on the B’s power play woes which, I believe, are dragging the team down of late. I’ve talked about it forever , it seems, but a full blown rant is due. Suffice to say Claude Julien will be mentioned extensively in that.

Then there’s the ongoing questions about the Bruins’ “fire”. Michael Felger on The Sports Hub questioned Cam Neely about it directly on his weekly radio appearance a few days ago and, while choosing his words carefully, certainly seemed to suggest more would be better in the intensity department. He deflected suggestions that some of the team’s conservatism is a reflection of the coach’s personality but you can’t help wondering if he’s looking for higher levels of testosterone. I’ve always said they play better when ornery.

Case in point, in Buffalo, they waited until the final buzzer had sounded to show some righteous hatred and, by then, it was too late. And here’s a tip for 6′-2″ 230 lb. Nathan Horton. When a potential line brawl erupts and a guy like Cody McCormick goes after your star center recently returned from a devastating concussion? When said star is laying on the ice trying to protect his fragile skull with both hands while an out of control gorilla is attemting to rip it off of his neck?

Go ahead and drop the stick and gloves.

I mean, why not? The buzzer sounded and you don’t really need them anymore, right? Might as well have those hands free to protect a vulnerable teammate from an all-out goon attack.

Sheesh.

Went to that game Saturday against Philly, by the way, and, as pointed out by my Columbus Blue Jackets watching compadre Gonz who is quite familiar with Jody Shelley, the man is not a dirty player. I don’t know exactly what happened on that icing even though I was about 12 feet away from where Adam McQuaid hit the boards but I think Shelley’s reaction was immediate and genuine. He wasn’t trying to hurt McQuaid. Might have made a poor decision to go in so hard on a play where he had no chance but so be it. He even went so far as to wait for Adam off the ice and apologize. As far as I’m concerned, that and the 2-game suspension are enough.

The real fun of the evening was taking my 6-year old daughter in to the game and visiting Faneuil Hall to see all the lights and festivities before hand. A glittering, frosty wonderland it was and the little lady had wide eyes and a rosy cheeked smile plastered on her face. After the game, as we’re walking back to our car she stops me and says, “Dad, I love going to the Big B’s games. I was too embarassed to say it during the game with everyone around but – I love you, Dad.”

Cue my heart melting. Pan slowly backward from a scene atop some granite steps in a wind-swept, empty Boston Government Center and a man with slightly damp eyes bending down to give his little girl the biggest goddamned hug ever.